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Title: Sonnet 23: To Miss E. S.
Author: Anna Seward [ More Titles by Seward]
Do I not tell thee surly Winter's flown, That the brook's verge is green;--and bid thee hear, In yon irriguous vale, the Blackbird clear, At measur'd intervals, with mellow tone, Choiring [1]the hours of prime? and call thine ear To the gay viol dinning in the dale, With tabor loud, and bag-pipe's rustic drone To merry Shearer's dance;--or jest retail From festal board, from choral roofs the song; And speak of Masque, or Pageant, to beguile The caustic memory of a cruel wrong?-- Thy lips acknowledge this a generous wile, And bid me still the effort kind prolong; But ah! they wear a cold and joyless smile. [Footnote 1: "While Day arises, that sweet hour of prime." MILTON'S PAR. LOST.]
[The end] Anna Seward's poem: Sonnet 23: To Miss E. S. ________________________________________________
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